


Tuiverse Shorts

by Pyromaniacal



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cults, Demons, Flirting, Gods, Implied Violence, Lesbianism, M/M, Man I don't know how to tag these they're all pretty different, Multi, Ori Krill is terrible at his job, Science Fantasy, Shorts, Sibling Rivalry, Varying POV, Varying tone, and Aria will ceaselessly make fun of him for it, but hopefully what's ambiently in the stories will be useful enough, nothing explicit though, this world has a lot of lore that I don't really want to explain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyromaniacal/pseuds/Pyromaniacal
Summary: Various short things I've written for one of my original projects.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	1. The Deserter

It was only after he had run six miles through the woods, half-blind and lungs burning, that Wolfe thought to consider what exactly had transpired to bring him to his current situation.

He had been a soldier of Mah’irah, a cultish religion that advertised divine protection from evil. He had served under the master swordswoman Augustiné, the brawn of the cult’s leaders. She was supposedly semi-divine and always dressed in blue, and he remembered her stern features fondly. But that had been before he had left, and before he had uncovered the cult’s largest conspiracy.

He couldn’t go back. The Mah’irah, perhaps Augustiné herself, would kill him. His desertion from his former position was damning enough, not to mention his discovery about the cult’s true demonic nature - information that was so strictly confidential that he suspected the cult leaders would protect it with their lives if they didn’t sacrifice their followers first. For Wolfe now knew all too well that the gods of Mah’irah were literal demons; demons that not only controlled Mah'irah, but had completely possessed all the cult’s leaders themselves. And so, he was on the run from them; the Mah'irah, the demons, Augustiné, everyone.

Where could he go? He had no family left; they were all dead, killed by war and starvation in Wolfe’s devastated northern home. The eastern deserts were dangerous; they were teeming with bandits, and even if he wasn’t killed by them, he’d die in the heat. And there was nothing to the south for a hundred miles - just more and more of these ghostly woods, a haunting place of dead trees and empty shadows where he’d only find madness and mushrooms. 

The west, then. There were cities to the west, cities where he could disappear and forget, and the ocean. The ocean was good, Wolfe decided. The ocean had ships and fish and opportunity to be anything but a connoisseur of malevolent spirits. He would wait until morning, and run from the sunrise to a place of hope and safety. It would be like his childhood home had been so many years ago, before that civil war that had driven him to Mah’irah in the first place, and it would be perfect. 

Wolfe was so busy smiling to himself, pleased with his revelation, that he didn’t hear the blue-clad figure drop from the trees, or see her raise a sword to  _ strike. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the reupload! I had uploaded the chapter with Mael & Chancer separately when I realized that I actually had like, a number of these short things from this universe, and I didn't want to upload them all separately, so a reupload it is, rip.


	2. Mael: Talk To The Shopkeep

“So, partner. What’s your name?” It’s the shopkeep, which Mael supposes is a weird thing to call him, because this is a ski shop, but what else is he supposed to do? Said shopkeep is leaning on the counter, propping his head up, and, uh. He’s also really, really cute.

_ Play it cool. _ “Hmm. Maybe it’s a secret. You haven’t given me a great reason to tell you, y’know.”   


“Not a great reason? You a secret agent or something?” The shopkeep’s eyes narrow, glinting sharply.   


“Maybe.” Mael gives his best coy grin. Is it coy? Hell if he knows. He doesn’t really do coy.

“Well, now I  _ really  _ want to know.”

“It’s Strom. Mael Strom.”

“Ha!” The shopkeep’s quick bark startles Mael. “That might be the dumbest agent name I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s on my birth certificate!”   


“It is  _ not _ .”

“Believe it, baby.” Stars, did he say that out loud?

The shopkeep doesn’t seem to notice. “Nope. Never in a million years. Nobody’d be  _ that _ cruel to their kid.”

“Fine, fine. My family name is Yukitori. Still Mael, though.” 

“Hm. Acceptable. I do enjoy the fact that your name is not, in fact, a horrible pun.” Despite his snark, the shopkeep’s smile is genuine, and it takes every bit of Mael’s willpower to keep from melting on the spot.

Instead, he raises his eyebrows. “Uh huh. Info for info, dude. What’s  _ your _ name?”

“You know, you’re not making a great case that you’re not a secret agent.”

Mael is tempted to stick out his tongue. “Stars, dude, I just come here to snowboard.”    


“It’s Chancer. No last name, because I am just  _ that _ cool and mysterious.” Is that true? Mael doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care. Chancer’s grin is way too smug, and Mael is in love with it. 

“Well, then, Chancer.” Mael attempts to look nonchalant as picks something off the rack by the register. “Can I get this...” He looks down at the packet he’s holding. “This gum. And, uh, also your number?”

Judging by the way Chancer is beaming, Mael is pretty sure that the answer is  _ yes _ .

  
  



	3. On Aria Krill

Your name is Aria Krill, and your aunt’s a god, and your brother’s a paladin, and you are very, very sapphic. Gods and paladins are cool and all, but of the three you think you do prefer the lesbianism. Neither your brother nor your aunt has a girlfriend, after all. (Neither do you, but that’s mostly just because you haven’t found her yet.)

Your aunt’s a god, except she’s not really your aunt, but you don’t know what else to call her. Tui, you guess. Technically she’s, like, your dad’s ex-girlfriend, you think? How your nerdy shut-in of a father ever dated someone like her, you have no idea. Apparently she got banished from the divine plane for refusing to die, or something like that that. It’s  _ super  _ metal. Now she wanders around the unsettled wastes beating up demons with a giant sword. When you were a kid, sometimes she would show it to you — it glowed a vibrant reddish orange and swam with afterimages of fish. She told you it was forged from her divine soul, and you believe her. She never let you touch it, though.

Your brother’s a paladin, except instead of divine armor and a claymore he has a shitty knife and a canoe that only barely stays afloat. You’d say he was religious, except his only god is Tui, and Tui’s, well, his aunt. It’s sort of weird to be devout for a god that half-raised you, but the one time you pointed that out to him, he didn’t talk to you for a week. His shitty knife glows, which is kind of alright you guess, but it’s nowhere near as cool as Tui’s. He insists on calling it his Holy Sword and swears that it’s for protecting Her Mission, but all you’ve seen him do with it is cut rope and clean fish. You do sort of wonder how he’d actually hold up in a fight.

You aren’t a fallen god or a useless paladin or anything, but you  _ are _ very gay and you  _ do  _ play bass guitar, and that’s gotta count for something. Maybe you won’t be fighting demons, but you can write an album that pokes fun at your brother, and at the end of the day that’s worth at least as much to you.

You really wish Tui’d let you hold her sword, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to be working on Ch2 of 12:56 right now, but my brain's kinda fried, so I wrote this as a warmup. Aria doesn't get enough love.
> 
> ... I only just realized this is original, and written in second person. Why is second person my default POV now? Christ.


End file.
